Tag Archives: Hoboken bibliothèque

I Pity The Poor Immigrant

A Thursday, and it’s been a good day. Yesterday after the adventure on Tuesday, I had the usual blues. A good time was had and for me depression sets in. It was nothing crippling, nothing a banana couldn’t change but still it happens. It’s been happening all of my life. I certainly appreciate the good times, the good days spent with Bill and friends and family. It’s just like the next day I feel like Wile E. Coyote treading air as I stepped off the cliff chasing the Roadrunner. There’s no descent, just a simple about face and all is well.

Last night was cool and mellow, just me and Bill hanging out watching the television. After the Ed Show we watched Modern Family just so we could have something to laugh about and then we watched Suburgatory which was alright, a Thanksgiving episode. And Thanksgiving is a mere week away.

Bill was up and out before the sun rise this morning, leaving a farewell kiss to me. I stayed in bed waiting for the sun to rise but fell asleep once again, only waking until after the fact. No one seemed to mind, let alone me.

I went out and about once again. More debris has been crated off only to be replaced by more debris. The bibliothèque has reopened and the staff was there, grumbling since the person in charge had left already. They’re all full timers so they got paid even though they couldn’t make it in. They all seemed to have been safe while the waters rose and receded. And there was quite a back log of books and other items to be returned and audited before going back on the shelves. I returned Naked Lunch, a movie I had seen with William Charas at the Galaxy Theater 20 years ago.

A movie I only needed to see once. It’s good and I remembered that it got my creative juices flowing back then, nowadays I just saw it as a valiant attempt to film the unfilmable. Peter Weller did do a great job of channeling el hombre invisible, William S. Burroughs. Adaptation is another movie like that. Of course both movies are related to the writing process, as is the Shining when you get down to it. I prefer not to think of myself as a dull, dull boy but ultimately that would be up to you to decide.

On my excursion I swung by the Guitar Bar, and there was Jim Mastro moving amplifiers around and not letting me help him. I did pester him enough that I might be able to help him out on Sunday, that is if his lovely wife Meghan is unable to help. I’m not looking to get paid, I just want to help him out since he helped me and so many others out a couple of weeks ago. After that I walked to the new cigar store and chatted with those guys. Got a freebie which was nice.

I was looking over something I wrote last month regarding Zack and his lack of response to my email. Still no response at this date which I suppose I should have expected. That ‘Caesar’ should be fine with a ‘Brutus’ at his side. No one will tell him the marsupial keeps his shiv in his pouch. Of course those that don’t know history are doomed to repeat it, and I am sure I will hear about whatever happens somehow.

Customers are chatty and my lines of communication with them are still open. Still no new point of sale system from what they tell me, the music sucks there without me and I am sure the employees still aren’t a part of the TransitChek system despite overtures and promises from the inhuman resources director. Don’t worry, Zack is not one to make waves.

It’s a good thing they don’t know about the Bizarro cigar shack blog that was created shortly after my departure. Names, faces and the kitchen sink I tell ya!

goodbye tree









Sign in the now gutted liquor store window.



05 The Great Pretender

I Never Knew You

It’s been a very rainy Friday. As I lay in bed this morning I thought, ‘now this is the day to stay in bed.’ Of course only a little while after that I got out of bed and started my day. There were plenty of mundane tasks to do, ennui waits. I wasn’t planning on doing much of anything today, it was raining quite hard and here on the sixth floor the wind was howling. A day not fit for man nor beast and here I was deciding which of those I was. I opted for being a man and duly stepped into the shower.

I got a few things off my chest with regards to this here blog. It’s noticeable if you know where to look. I mean, look beyond the obvious. Last night as I was going off to the arms of Morpheus, I came up with some lines for a song. I didn’t get out of bed and write them down, nor did I write them in the notebook I kept by the bed. The pen is there but the notebook is missing, or at least it was last night in the darkness. No, I went to sleep hoping to remember the line.

To my surprise I was able to remember the line so that worked out fine. It’s a good line, not to be revealed here, since I am trying to write a song. I was hoping to write a song for the benefit at Maxwells on the October 25, but it’s not as easy as I had hoped. I have songs in my head all the time and figured it would be easy, using the basic verse/chorus/verse, eschewing the middle eight. There’s still time anyhow. A few covers and an original might just be a few covers and nothing else.

Tomorrow there is an open mike in Church Square Park, sponsored by the Bibliothèque and I might just jump in for the sake of getting my chops. If I do that, I would be following a Flamenco act and possibly a rapper who raps in American Sign Language. And that would be after doing some volunteer work at the bibliothèque. Apparently they were all quite happy with me being there last Saturday so helping out again this Saturday would probably be helpful, but then again, no two days are the same. One day is busy, another day perhaps not so much.

Bill is driving to Atlantic City tonight and doing it again tomorrow night. So things will be quiet and quite dull here. Things just aren’t as entertaining and funny when Bill isn’t around. And once again I got all misty just thinking about him this afternoon. It could have been the rain though, but the rain doesn’t necessarily leave one with a warm heart does it?

Today is my brother Frank’s birthday. 11 years between us. He’s a good guy, but we’re so much alike sometimes that we can’t avoid butting heads. The first five minutes of seeing each other can be very combustible. There is a gathering planned on Sunday afternoon and Bill and I said we would attend. It’s in Saddle Brook, not too far away. It would be good to see family once again before we separate and come together again during the end of the year holidays.

So that’s about it for today I reckon. What’s done is done and of course there is always tomorrow and the day after. So much depends on the weather, both inside and out. But overall things should be alright as far as I can tell, and I can tell a lot…



05 Towers Of London